


Gods of The Forest

by orphan_account



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Adult Content, Alter Sex, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood, M/M, Peril, Twincest, Twincest-Non Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 10:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The winter ceremony was important, it called forth the Goddess who would bring the world back out of the darkness and into the light of a new year, but the year that Tom takes over the duty it isn’t the Goddess who shows up...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gods of The Forest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kishmet](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kishmet).



> For the Secret Santa Exchange 2011.
> 
> To Kishmet, of whom I am a _huge_ fan; so this about half fills a large proportion of the prompts that you left, but doesn’t completely fill any of them and it wasn’t that light in the end... hope you like it anyway!

Tom was seven, a very young child, but in pre-Roman Britain it was old enough. He was, for the first time, going with his father to speak to the Goddess of the winter solstice: The spirit of life and rebirth. She had many names, but, as in so many cultures, the names held power. She knew them all intimately; the name Her mother gave Her, the name Her follower’s gave Her, the name of Her ceremonial bond and, the most important and the source of Her power, the name She gave Herself.

Most of the druids knew only the name that the religion gave Her any and, like many words imbued with power, they rarely spoke it. The rest were not for this world. Tom didn’t think that he would _want_ to know the other names, to hold so much over another person.

Tom’s father knew one other name.

It had never, and would never pass his lips for fear that uttering it would allow the name to be heard by another living soul. Yes, Tom’s father was _The Name Bearer_ the priest chosen by the Winter Goddess to be Her connection to the living world. Jorg was the only living person who knew the name of Her bond and the Goddess was the only other being who knew the name She gave to Jorg.

This was the way of the old religion; the exchange of names between the spirits and their chosen one. The relationship was said to be intimate, above physical things and beyond any bonding that was formed between others, not man and wife, nor mother and child. The relationship between the Gods and their chosen priests was not one to be taken lightly.

Every priest of the old religion was connected to a deity, they would feed the priests power and in return the priest would allow the spirit to access the power of the living earth. Jorg was special amongst the order though, he was one of the few high priests. It was a title passed down through generations. He was the one who was bound to the all important winter goddess; She who led them from the heart of the darkness into the summer’s dawn once more.

One day Her ceremonies and securing Her power would be Tom’s job. When the day came that Jorg passed down his title, be that through death or the will of the Goddess, then the name would be taken from Jorg and given to Tom. For now Tom was just watching, holding onto the robes of his father in fear of the power he knew he could feel beyond the veil.

He didn’t understand why the others in the circle were not scared, whilst he knew that they could not see or feel the power of this goddess as he and his father could surely they understood the importance of where they stood and the gravity of the situation they found themselves in. Even at ceremonies where Tom was merely a bystander and not an apprentice he showed the appropriate level of fear and respect.

The old religion called to him much more than he thought it must do for some people. He felt more certain than most that there was nothing more important than the balance of life was on the earth and he worried often that he was going to fail his father when the time came. ‘What was that?’ he sometimes imagined Her saying, ‘You want me to perform ceremonies with this little child? Honestly you must think that I’m a fool. Get him out of my sight.’

So what if Tom knew that the Winter Goddess was a kind and wise woman prone to nurturing life rather than carving paths with death and force. That didn’t mean She couldn’t spot a weakling when She saw one.

The words that his father spoke were familiar to him in sound and pitch, but they didn’t mean anything to him yet. He would begin to learn the language of the priests after tonight, but for now they were just a mixture of nonsense and notes.

The sun was almost rising, the time for the day to be born anew and the Goddess to come forth into the world once more was upon them.

The last branch of the winter green the one that would burn deeply and unchangingly over the coming months, split open. The sympathetic magic which would invite life into the darkness and protect them acting on the world as the first rays of light peeked over the horizon.

“My dear friend.” She spoke, Her voice made up of a thousand voices, some old and some young, some high and some low, some kind and some harsh were all blended together into one soothing melody. Each one was beautiful. Each one was terrifying. “Is it that time already?” She asked gently as though the time fell away with Her. After so many years of existence Tom knew he wouldn’t be particularly surprised if it did.

The rest of the ceremony proceeded as was to be expected, but Tom wasn’t focused on the Winter’s Mother. He was focused on the area behind Her, though all his logic told him that there was no-one there.

It was bizarre; he could have sworn that he could see a little boy behind Her who seemed strangely familiar, clinging to his mother throughout the ceremony as Tom himself clung to the robes of his father. The stranger’s eyes saw deep into his soul, but for once Tom wasn’t terrified.

He knew that they were the same.

 

Mother was as wise and magnanimous as she was beautiful, but then again Bill reasoned, she had had rather a lot of time to get to this point in her existence. Though Bill himself was young, he knew that one day he would be as in tune with the world and all its living things as his mother was. This time of year in the dead of winter was the time when she shined the most, able to bring to the world the brightness that the sun god denied it through these dark months.

This would be his job one day. His mother had told him that she wanted to pass on her title to another, one who would respect the world as much as she did and be able to keep the balance. Her time had come, not to die; she could not, but to take her place in the Hall of the Gods and seat herself there to answer the prayers of the earth. When that time came such earth bound things as the winter ceremony would no longer be a task in which she could participate.

The world was expanding. People were moving from place to place. New gods were being born in new places and it wouldn’t be long before all the responsibility to keep the connection between the living magic of the earth and the world of the Gods would be Bill’s.

Keep the balance. That was what Bill was always told.

It had been ingrained into his path ever since the moment he was called forth from the earth, the prophecies foretold of a time when he and an unknown man would be needed above all others to keep the world in working the same way that it always had. Someday, someday very soon it would be his responsibility alone.

He watched from his own realm as his mother stepped out to greet her priest, Bill had always had some jealousy that she had a priest a connection to the earth so deep and yet he did not. He would not see her often during these coming months as the priest held her connection to the world open so she could pass freely as she saw fit.

“Your time will come my love,” she would say, she preached patience to her son and he tried his best to learn its ways.

Patience.

 

Being scared was not a feeling unfamiliar to Tom, even as a young boy he had had a somewhat nervous disposition, but he had grown a little and gained strength and a level head in the process. His mind and his emotions were not the only thing to grow, Tom himself had gone from a small bouncy chubby-cheeked child, to the tall gangly young man he was now. His shoulders were still narrow from having shot upwards far too much, far too quickly but he was starting to fill out again. There were moments when he still felt as graceless as a baby deer taking its first steps, but after a few months of getting used to his limbs he felt a little more a home with the extra length.

But the most important change, the one that scared him the most, was the one that was yet to happen. It would be here soon, very soon, far too soon for his own comfort really, but he knew there was little he could do about it. The Goddess had decided and his father had agreed.

The ceremony would now be his.

He felt sorry for his father. Would he be able to bind himself to a new deity, or would he simply be lost forever without one? His father wasn’t the sort of man who wasted time on jealousy, but he had never known a person who had severed the contact between himself and the Goddess this way. It was a bond that should have endured until death, but if severed what would become of his father?

What would become of him?

There were far too many questions and no-one around to answer them. He wanted to believe that none of this mattered, that somehow such a strong bond being formed or broken wouldn’t affect anyone greatly, but it was a futile hope, it didn’t take a philosopher to see that this mattered more than anything in the entire world.

The reason it had to be now, his father had insisted, was because this solstice was mere months after his coming of age ceremony. At this point the Goddess had decided that Tom would be ready to take over the duty of opening the veil to the other world.

For days now Tom had been memorising the sacred rites in his head hoping that he wouldn’t get them wrong or somehow manage to trap the Goddess in the other world or call on the wrong person or break the veil. Could that happen? Could Tom actually break the veil?

By all of the deities he certainly hoped not.

As the night fell low and reached its darkest point before the new dawn Tom let the earth guide him. There was little more to be done. If he got it right then there would be nothing more to worry about, except being eternally bound to the most powerful Goddess in existence, but Tom was certain that that particular issue was trivial compared to the one that faced him right now.

Fear lingered in Tom’s heart all the way until the moment he stood in front of the veil to draw the Goddess from the other side. In that moment everything else just melted away.

 

“Mother,” Bill said bowing to the woman who had brought him here. It was a sign of respect, for right now that was needed. Love was for every single day, not a moment in the history of existence was love not needed, but the time for reverence and respect had its time and its place. They were both here and now.

The words that were said were familiar, but never before had he heard them pull him so. They pulled on his heart and his mind and brought him closer and closer towards something he knew to be so much more than he could have ever hoped. There was something about the person calling him. It wasn’t the same man that had called his towards his mother towards the veil.

Every time those words were spoken he had felt a small tug on his heart, but it was infinitesimal, something akin to the way a boulder would be dragged along by a tide. This time it was different, it was as though he was a grain of sand engulfed by a tsunami, there was no other choice put to be swept along.

Without hesitation he stepped forward.

 

Tom expected the Goddess to be here quickly. Whenever his father performed the ceremony it seemed not a second before She appeared to bring life to the cold world, but here in this moment time seemed to stretch on forever. He felt like he should have been disappointed or upset, but he didn’t. Someone was coming; he could feel it all the way to his soul.

When the shape began to form in front of him he didn’t begin to process that it was rather too tall to be the Goddess. She was a Goddess; Tom was fairly sure She could be whatever She wanted to be, but then he saw the face, and whilst the person standing in front of him _felt_ right, and was by all standards the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life, it was not the Goddess. In addition to not feeling the same as the Mother did, there being no mistaking that this creature was male. How had Tom brought forth a _God_ on the eve of the _Goddess_?

Even seeing the unexpected presence of this strange God whom Tom did not know did not make him feel anxious or scared. This stranger was radiating peace. Whomever it was Tom had called forth to protect them through the winter, he had done it right. This was who was supposed to be here.

 

His mother hadn’t told him that it would be someone new coming to begin a life _together_ but he couldn’t help to be pleased. He had been disturbed when he thought his mother was suggesting that he bind to Jorg. He was _hers_ just as she was his and for Bill to even begin to become a part of that felt immoral down to his very core.

This person, on the other hand, was entirely his. From the moment Bill laid his eyes on the young man he knew that he would never share him. Bill had always been a particularly jealous person and it was clear that it would be no different now than it had ever been.

What surprised him more than the sight of his new person was how much he recognised him. Songs were sung about this boy and everyone knew how important he could become. He would be the one to balance the old religion and the religion that was yet to come. His name was no secret to Bill.

“My Thomas.” Bill said with a soft, kind smile of one who had known the person they gave it to for many years. Even if this was the first time he had set his eyes upon the boy he knew him as intimately as if he had been by his side for all his years.

The words that were exchanged next were for no-one to hear. Not a soul but the two of them would know what was said.

Their true names were sacred.

 

Winters came and winters went. The ceremonies continued as normal and the earth thrived, there were whispers of a new religion starting in far off lands to the east and over the sea, but Tom wasn’t too worried about this, religions were always growing and changing, it was the way the gods existed. If the religions didn’t change then neither could the gods, and not a single soul, deity or not, could live their life so closed off to the experiences around them. There was no person who experienced nothing.

Every winter Tom opened the veil to invite Bill into their homes, and little by little the young God found his way into Tom’s very own heart. Every time the veil closed again at the summer solstice and he helped Bill back to the world he came from Tom managed to feel the ache even more keenly. With each passing year, when he saw the other boy again, there was nothing sweeter.

Everything in Tom’s life revolved around Bill, in the hot summer months when Bill had disappeared once more to the world beyond Tom was left feeling like only half of a person. He had grown attached to Bill in a way that felt deeper even than the bonds of naming that passed between the two of them. Tom felt that he would tell Bill his every name without a second thought and he had the sneaking suspicion that the feeling was entirely mutual.

“So when’s your birthday?” Tom asked sitting by Bill’s feet as the God sat on the branch above him healing damaged tree bark with a soothing touch, whispering words of encouragement and love. 

It wasn’t Bill’s duty to take a corporal form in this world. He was instead supposed to flow into all things, but as the years had gone by Bill had learned how to be in all places and only with Tom at the same time. It was selfish, but Tom couldn’t be happier.

“I’m sorry?” Bill asked, brought back to Tom from his momentary distraction. “I rather was someplace entirely, my birthday?” 

“The day when you were born?” Tom asked again, but this time wondering how a person couldn’t know what a birthday was let alone whether or not they had one. Then again, Bill wasn’t really a person.

A shrug was given in answer, “I don’t really know. I was called from the earth, and time doesn’t really run the same way in my world as it does here. It was the winter solstice I know.” Bill replied remembering, “And a score of winters have passed since then.”

Tom laughed loudly as Bill finished talking, though Bill didn’t see what was so funny. He looked at Tom quizzically, “I’m sorry,” he said with a grin on his face as the laughter died down, it’s just that I hadn’t expected you to be _younger_ than me.”

Bill’s smile was soft and understanding, “Strange as it may seem my dear, I’m sure there are a great many gods who are not as far as you in years.”

“I know, a God for every type of plant and creature and thing.” Tom repeated something that had been said to him a thousand times over.

“This poor thing’s growing ill.” Bill said flitting over to the next topic as he was wont to do, Tom thought Bill best resembled the butterflies of summer. Better than he resembled the hibernating creatures of winter at least, but he supposed that it wasn’t that surprising. He took them _out_ of winter rather than pulling the world into its depths.

“It’s probably the mistletoe,” Tom said pointing at the green branches with white berries that were growing high in the branches of the old tree. “Trees feed their lives to sustain the life of the plants so they never have to touch the ground. They’re sacrosanct.”

“Are they? What’s it for?” Bill enquired staring at the mistletoe Tom had shown him.

Tom couldn’t help but feel perplexed and surprised (it would probably show on his face as well). The tradition was well known to all people in these parts especially around the winter feasts, with Bill being such a large part of the winter festival Tom had no clue as to how it has passed him by all these years.

“Many things,” Tom eventually stuttered, “We hang them by our doors to bring luck.” He climbed up high enough to grab a few of the little branches and cut them carefully with his golden knife, the only blade worthy to collect such an item. “We prepare alters with them, we place garlands of them of the pyres of the dead to help them to the next life.” Tom said sitting down next to Bill with the branches in hand “And they bless love of those who kiss under their branches. I’m surprised you don’t know; it’s a common invitation to romance.”

Bill’s marble skin flushed, “I bring life to the earth. It is not my role to know about the ceremonies of love.”

“Then perhaps I should show you them,”

His returned smile was wistful, “I’m sure you would, so, go on then. How do these branches bless love?” Bill said a lot closer than Tom had anticipated. “What do people do?”

“Well,” replied Tom, mouth suddenly very dry, “People suspend it from a high place.”

“Like the branch?” Bill asked knotting the twigs Tom had gathered together and placing them on the branch above.

Tom hummed in response, words failing him somewhat, “And then they stand or sit together beneath it,” Bill was now sitting even closer than he had before, “and they just...”

But Tom didn’t need to finish his explanation; Bill had already gotten the idea. He leaned forward hands clenched beside him as though not trusting them and brushed his lips passed Tom’s. It was barely a whisper of a kiss, but it gave Tom the confidence to hold Bill’s face gently between his hands and kiss him soundly.

There were a million reasons why this was a terrible idea.

But Tom couldn’t remember a single one.

 

Bill was in love with Tom, there was no denying it. Everything about him was more than he ever could have hoped for. Gods didn’t fall in love with each other very much. Of course there were ones that did, but the love that the Gods had to give wasn’t usually for something as small as one person. The love that Gods gave was for the earth, or for plants, or for the air, or for mankind. Rarely did they fall so completely in love with another in this way and almost never with a mortal.

The weeks of winter passed by and had thawed into spring and summer was rising fast. Soon, too soon, Tom would be preparing to send Bill back to the other world and the idea had never felt as wrong to Bill as it did this year. Bill had always been saddened to leave Tom behind but now even the idea felt simply abhorrent. 

It was barely a week before the two would have to part and they had sat beneath the night sky looking at the stars long after other people would have gone in. The summer heat had been increasing of late. It was warm and comfortable despite the late hour and Bill had been holding back hot tears for far too long, unable to speak for sorrow.

“Can mortals travel to your world?” Tom asked, breaking the heavy silence between them looking towards Bill.

Bill nodded, still without his voice.

“I want to go with you.” The mortal said with conviction, “When you leave I want to leave as well.”

“No!” Bill exclaimed sitting bolt upright, “You can’t. If you left you would never be able return.”

Tom sat up slowly and took Bill’s hands in his own, “I wouldn’t care. Please Bill; all I want is to be with you.”

The tears that Bill had been holding at bay so long spilled over his long eyelashes, “But when I leave to help this world you’ll be there again and it’ll be just as bad.”

“Then your mother can take over again, we can be together all the time.”

“You know as well as I do that she wouldn’t agree to that, we were called to this for a reason.”

A shake of his head was Tom’s reply, “I don’t believe that’s true. We’re supposed to be together, you can feel it as much as I can. Every year I grow older, Bill, and you don’t age. If we don’t do something soon how long before we barely recognise each other anymore?”

“I’m a god; I can be whatever age I wish to be.” Bill insisted.

“We both know that it doesn’t work that way.”

“You’re not going to, because there is a reason for you to be here in this world. You are needed here Tom and I’m not going to let you leave. Not yet.”

Even though Tom’s offer was tempting, it was also impossible, or as near as. Bill considered this to be the end of the conversation.

 

Tom didn’t.

He would speak to the Goddess himself. He would find a way to stay with Bill. If he wasn’t able to persuade Her to take on Bill’s duties once more then at least he would be able to live forever with Bill for half of the year rather than wither away and leave Bill alone for the rest of his existence. All of these options were better than changing nothing. Anything was better than _doing_ nothing.

In his mind it was clear how he would be able to pass through the veil to bargain with the Goddess. Hazy concepts such as who would help Bill return or who would bring him forth again in the future or whether Bill would have to name another to be his connection to the earth weren’t important right now. The altar was waiting, he would open the veil and let it and take him away to the place where Bill resided for the darkest part of Tom’s year.

 

“Are you there?” Bill asked quietly. If she was there she would hear him no matter how softly he spoke.

“My son,” The Goddess called through the veil, “Why is it you’re here so early? There are several nights before your return.”

“I have something I must speak with you about.”

“Then speak my child,” Bill couldn’t see her face, but he imagined that she was smiling as she always did.

He breathed slowly for a few moments so as steady “It is about Thomas.”

“The blessed boy,” she said as affectionately as if she had borne him herself.

Bill nodded, knowing his mother would understand even if she couldn’t see him, “I think I want him.”

The tinkling laugh that came from the other side was not unkind, but slightly confused, “You already have him, love.”

“No,” Bill said, struggling to clarify, “I want him in all things. I love him more that I’ve ever loved anything.”

“That isn’t unusual, Bill. The bond of names is strong.”

“It’s more than that,” Bill insisted, “I want to hold him, and be with him all my days. It tears me apart when I have to leave and,” he paused “I wish to lie with him, to be tied to him in every way.”

“You cannot lie with the human Bill.” His mother said immediately, “If you do you will be unable to return to the spirit world through all the winter months for eternity. Not just the way that you spend you’ve spent your time these past years, there will be no connection. You could not talk to me as you do now. You will watch the boy you love grow old and die whilst you stay the same even after he is gone. Is that really what you want?”

Bill didn’t answer his mother, but couldn’t help feeling that it was.

 

Bill’s father was the father of everything and was in everything. He wasn’t difficult to find if a person wished to seek him out.

“Bill,” he called easily, Bill didn’t speak to Father Time often, but he knew who Bill was. Then again that wasn’t difficult when he knew who everyone was. “What is it you wish?”

Bill was half broken by the question, “It does not matter what I wish; it’s not mine to have.”

“It’s that time then.” He said, Bill remembered why he didn’t often talk to the man; it was unnerving to talk to someone who knew everything that had been before and everything that would come afterwards.

“What time?” Bill asked in reply, “What is it that’s going to happen.”

“I can’t tell you everything, but concerning Tom I can help you. Do you know the boy’s purpose?”

This was a question that barely warranted answering, though Bill answered it anyway if it would help him at all. “We all know the boy’s purpose; he will keep the balance between the Gods.”

“Do you think he can do that in only a human lifespan?”

Bill could only look confused, “Of course. He must; he is mortal and it is written.”

“Oh my dear, young thing,” Father Time sighed, “There is still so much you don’t know. Your destiny and his will be intertwined forever.”

There were no words that Bill could speak, they all made little sense to him.

“There is something you must do my child. Listen and destiny will guide you through the rest. You have one chance at this and one chance only.”

 

Tom would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little apprehensive. Death was not an easy thing to prepare oneself for, but he knew what would come afterwards would be so much sweeter; a life with Bill; a life _for_ Bill.

The stone of the altar was cold, as he had thought it might not be now that the sun had warmed the earth again. Now that Bill had breathed life into the earth again, but he supposed that it was fitting. His knife was heavy in his hands, the same gold knife that was used to cut the mistletoe. It was blessed for more than one reason and he was happy to use it for a greater purpose. There was rain starting to fall, but Tom thought it perfect, it would wash him away from this world and take him to the next.

It would hurt; Tom was certain of it and nothing would quite prepare him for that, but it would be worth it in the end. The knife was at his chest, the tip already sharp on his skin, he had to place it perfectly and then this would all be over.

“Tom!” Bill called, and for a strange second Tom thought he might have committed the deed without noticing, or perhaps without remembering, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Bill was calling to him from this world. He held his hand over Tom’s, stilling the knife.

 

Bill looked at the knife in Tom’s hands in abject horror, not moving the knife, Tom wrapped Bill’s fingers around the hilt.

“Can you?” Tom said, Bill didn’t even have to ask what Tom meant. Bill knew what Tom wanted Bill to do, but he knew something that Tom didn’t, and he knew that the answer would always and eternally be no. He took the weight of knife from Tom’s hand and Tom closed his eyes in preparation for something that Bill didn’t even want to think about.

It wasn’t until he heard the clatter of the knife on the hard ground that Tom opened his eyes again, Bill knew Tom was about to argue with him about this way being a necessity, being the _only_ way, but Bill wouldn’t even let him say those words. If he could have stopped him even _thinking_ those things then he would have done so in a heartbeat.

“There’s something I want from you, if you were willing.” Bill said taking Tom’s hand to sit him up on the altar.

“Anything, Bill,” And Bill didn’t have to spend a second on thinking if those words were true he knew the weight they carried behind them.

“Lay with me.”

Tom nodded, treating Bill with reverence, undressing him inch by inch and worshiping the God in a way that no other would be allowed to. There was no need to exchange further words, and as Tom gently stretched Bill out on the cold stone, Bill whispered things that Tom wouldn’t understand and they joined together so sweetly that Bill thought he might break.

“I love you.” Tom’s voice panted softly right into Bill’s ear and he dug his nails into Tom’s back, never wanting to let go, knowing that even now he might be hurting Tom, but knowing that it was impossible for him to take anything less than everything Tom was willing to give him. Every hard thrust that pushed him up against the unforgiving surface of the altar was full of more exquisite pleasure than Bill had ever thought possible and he was rendered breathless every time.

That humans could do this once and not crave it so much that they spent their lives intimately entwined, Bill couldn’t fathom. Tom joined their lips once again, hot and wet as they both reached their climax feeling that there was no person and no thing that could match the exhilaration of what they felt for each other right there in that moment.

When Tom and Bill’s essence mingled in the rain it blessed the stone the two lay on more than any sacred ritual could have done.

Tom fell asleep easily with the sound of Bill’s heart echoing in his ears and the rain washing over their bodies. Bill’s fingers knotted up in the tangles of Tom’s hair and they both knew that whatever this was, it was only the beginning.

 

When Tom woke up he felt strange. Not bad, but strange none the less. He was still curled up with the young God the rain had stopped now and the sun was in the sky, but the two of them were still damp.

He sat up to assess the damage from sleeping on a bed of stone, but there was none. There was no ache in his body _anywhere_ not even a twinge, he looked at his hands which should have been littered with scars and marks from a life of ceremonies, but there was nothing. He had never seen himself this way.

He could still feel; his hair was still coarse and the stone was still hard and Bill’s skin was still soft and warm under his fingertips, but there was not a whisper of pain in his body nor a flaw on his skin.

He stroked his fingers over his lover’s face to rouse him from his sleep. “Tom,” Bill said, voice thick from sleep in a way that was surprisingly sultry.

“Are you well?” Tom asked, wondering if this change had occurred just in him.

“Absolutely,” he said smiling, but the smile dropped as he tried to sit up, causing him to shout, “Okay, maybe not.” Tom carried the weight of his body, helping him upright.

“What happened?” he asked, voice laced with worry, “Was it me?”  
Bill shook his head and tried to reassure Tom, but the effect was broken by another groan, “Not directly, I’m just being pathetic,” he eventually settled on, “I’m just not used to pain yet; I doubt I have more than a scratch. I was warned the sensation would be overwhelming the first time. I should have listened more.”

“I thought you couldn’t _feel_ pain. You could never be hurt. What’s going on?” Tom was wary and confused. Whatever it was that was happening he didn’t like it. He traced his fingers down Bill’s back and felt the source of the pain, there were small grazes and cuts there, nothing serious, no more than most children could manage when they were playing too fearlessly for their own good, but if a person had never felt pain, then it would probably be devastating.

“I gave it all to you.” Bill said through slightly gritted teeth as though that would explain what was happening rather than just confusing Tom even more.

“Gave what to me?” Bill looked as though he might have smiled if he had had any inclination to do such things at the moment.

“My life, I took your mortality from you.” It was all Tom could do not to cry as though he were a child. What had Bill _done_?

“How is that any better?!” Tom was in panic, “I don’t want you to ever die, this is worse than before.”

But then Bill kissed Tom on the forehead and explained everything. He explained how he was now bound to the mortal world until the summer solstice, and how he would be mortal during that time. He explained how upon his return to the other realm, something unavoidable though devastating, he would be granted his immortality once more and Tom would be left as he had been before. Bill’s eternity would be shared between them and fix them and rejuvenate them until the end of days. The days that they would spend trying to be the balancing force between the Gods of the wild and the Roman Gods of metal and agriculture and the Gods of generations still to come. They would see all Gods and bring them to peace.

“But right now I am weak Tom, weaker than I have ever been.” He laughed but it did not sound entirely as mirthful as intended, “How do you live like this?” He complained lightly, wincing with every movement that brought the damage on his back to the front of his mind.

“What can I do?” Tom asked, prepared to do anything for the other, no matter God or man.

“Will you protect me, my love?”

The born mortal, but now immortal man, smiled as best he could through his tears; there was only one answer he could possibly give.

 

“Bill come on; we’re going to be late.” Tom insisted, thinking that right now he should be hastily throwing caps into his suitcase.

He wasn’t going to stay in the old lands for very long, but with the constant attention from the cameras and from the fans he wasn’t going to risk being caught with a suitcase that was empty. He didn’t want to do anything that might raise even the slightest of suspicions. If they travelled with an empty suitcase then the next day the newspapers would be full of farcical tales of drug smuggling or embezzling. They had to maintain the front that they were ‘going home’ to see their mother. It wasn’t a hard lie to maintain, really because it was mostly the truth minus a few unimportant embellishments.

It was the day before the summer solstice and they had a plane to catch in less than two hours, the flights would wait for them, who wouldn’t wait for the famous singer and guitarist? But Tom really didn’t enjoy upsetting people.

Bill was lying in the bed tangled up in Tom, relishing the last few moments of intimacy that they would be able to share for many months to come, “I don’t want to. Please Tom.”

“I don’t want you to leave, but you know you have to.” Tom said, though he made no move to get up either.

“We have this argument every year don’t we?”

“I think I’d be disappointed if we didn’t,” Tom replied quietly leaning over his prone lover to give him a soft kiss.

“I never want to leave you.” Bill was crying, but it wasn’t a first for him; he had been crying in front of Tom for thousands of years now. It was no longer an embarrassment, but it hurt as much every time as much as the first.

Bill and Tom enjoyed their time together and the way that they could bring stability to the world around them. That was why they joined with the others (two wonderful boys so understanding and loyal that Bill regretted that they would ever have to leave them behind) to reach all the corners of the globe. The further they could travel the more they could do. In this ever changing world there were always new Gods around, ones who needed to be spoken to by Bill and Tom, ones who needed to be told of the old ways and how to respect and cherish them without remaining stagnant. When they toured and played and lived, everyone could see the love that bound them together closer than any people ever had been bound before.

The months that they were kept separate, ‘For Bill’s own good’ Tom would remind himself every time, ‘so that next year you can be together again’, they always claimed that they were in the studio writing.

They didn’t need those months of time to write songs of love and loss; those were always playing in their hearts and minds, for neither of them could name another who loved so deeply or felt loss so keenly.

As the time drew closer to the moment where Bill would have to leave everything became a blur and a haze of emotional goodbyes.

The only thing the consoled them was the certain knowledge that the farewell was never for good.

 

Tom remembered the words as easily as he had remembered them as a young man. The language he spoke was so unlike any of the ones that existed nowadays, everything had changed; barely anything from his hometown looked the way it did before, all except for Bill’s forest. Not a soul touched it or tried to tear it down. It was protected.

“Hello Tom,” Bill said. There were no tears now; here was the time of joy.

“My love,” Tom replied, bowing to his God, a habit that Tom was loathe to break.

It wasn’t hard to come together in a kiss as they had so many countless times before, Tom ran his fingers through Bill’s hair, different to the way it had been when he left, normally midnight black but now a honey blond, “You changed your hair.” Tom stated speaking close to Bill as though he couldn’t bear to be more than a few centimetres from the other boy.

“I thought I’d go for a change,” He said with the playful grin that made Tom fall in love with Bill all over again no matter how many times he saw it.

Tom couldn’t help but nod his approval, “Looks good,” he sighed and pressed his lips against Bill’s quickly once more, “I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too, I always will.” The tears were going to come eventually but Bill was doing a good job at making them disappear, “Merry Christmas,” he whispered with a smile.

“It certainly is now.”


End file.
